A Marauders Tale: Switch
by Hypnotiic
Summary: It's 1976, and the Marauders have seemed to get into it again. And this time, with our Miranda Millans. What happens when our dear old Dumbleedore decides to have the folks switch bodies for a week? Read on. First Fanfiction. R&R, please.


**_Disclaimer;__  
_**I, having all the power that I can, disclaim all characters (subtracting our Miss Millans, of course) as my own. Meaning, they're not mine. :)  
However, I have to say that the plot was my own doing.  
_Happy Reading._

**Chapter One**;  
_The Beginning_.

It was interesting, the rules of life at the place called Hogwarts. Quite so for a certain Miranda Millans, who wallowed in her childish life as if it would go on forever, acting as a simple eleven year old not quite ready to fulfill her foot steps. More interesting, was it, that she defied the laws of science, using a wand to conjure up a glass of water. Or using a quill to write on a twelve-foot piece of parchment.  
Curious, was it, that everything she did seemed to attract even the youngest of students. Quite so, the first year Gryffindor males.  
She was the one who usually strutted about the castle with a healthy, glowing face, alongside Rita Skeeter and Dorcas Meadowes, and trying her hardest not to bad-mouth others.  
Miranda, I suppose I should say, wasn't the flirty, fifteen year old hotshot you'd expect her to be. Instead, you got a fun-loving Quidditch player with a mind of an eight year old.  
Quite so, I should say again that she wasn't stupid. And she did tend to swear. But again, she wasn't interested in the whole scenario of alcohol and romance that withheld in a normal teenager's life at Hogwarts. More so, she wasn't Sirius Black, or James Potter, to say at the least.  
...Perhaps I should get on with my little story, though, eh?

* * *

It was 15 April, 1975, fifth year for our lovely Andy Millans, who sat on a grassy plain amongst Rita Skeeter and Dorcas Meadowes, observing from afar our dashing Marauders four with a slight frown on her face as they tormented Severus Snape, but felt a small pang of relief as Lily Evans stepped in.  
"Giant squids," Rita murmured under her breath, a quill darting to and fro across a bit of parchment, "Oh, the news we'll make."  
Andy simply rolled her eyes, but peeked curiously as Rita continued to write, glasses on the tip of her nose, and noted with a sly smile, "Should really get into the Prophet, Rita. It might actually pay off."  
"Nonsense!" Rita cried, folding her arms defiantly, "I'll be damned if I get a job in that piece of rubbish called a 'newspaper'."  
"Come now," Dorcas sighed, "It's not all that bad. They're correct--"  
"Somewhat," Andy interrupted with a snort, and stood as Lily Evans left the scene. Rita peered curiously up at her, and after a moment stood awkwardly beside Dorcas, quill still in hand, and gazing at Andy as if she were clearly nuts. No one spoke to the four - unless they were mindlessly flirting with them, or were chosen at the next house party. But it seemed our Miss Millans chose to spoke to whomever as long as she pleased to.  
"'Lo, you lot!" she greeted brightly, a sheepish smile occupying her face as she glanced at the four. Of course, she was known - quite a bit, actually. Let's be honest, now. She was the awkward, happy-go-lucky Miranda Millans who occupied a spot as a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Perhaps she wasn't the most famous female at school in the seventies, but it wasn't to the point where as no one even so much as knew her name.  
"Andy," James Potter greeted boredly, leaning against the tree the four sat nearest with a casual awareness, "'Lo, there."  
"Y'know you lot shouldn't be picking on Snapple quite so late in the year," she wandered into the subject as if it were nothing, glancing down immediately as she caught Sirius Black's humorous gaze, "Seriously, guys. It isn't as if he's plotting your death. 'Least, I hope not."  
"That bastard called Evans a --!" James defended quickly, pausing as he glanced helplessly towards the castle, "_You know what_."  
"Still. You shouldn't be an ass --" she paused quickly as Rita rushed to her side in excitement, "--about it. They're probably having troubles as friends, or sommat."  
"D'aw. Millans, you very well know that that word is forbidden. Afterall, you wouldn't want _me_ calling _you_ that, would you?," Sirius noted with a pout, jumping up, a 5'11 to her simple (rather short stature) 5'1, "'S not as if we hurt anyone."  
"You hurt his pride," Andy suggested, "_Oreo_. And honestly, if you wanted to hurt his pride, you could've just cornered him in a corner and insulted his mother."  
Sirius frowned. For about two years, Andy had taken a liking to naming him after a cookie, ever since finding out his last name (Orion), and comparing it to the delicate treat.  
"Good suggestion, Andy," Sirius grinned jauntily, patting her on the head as if she were a dog waiting for a bone. Swiping away his hand good naturedly, she shook her head.  
"C'mon, guys. Don't," she cried, "He's only human."  
"A greasy one," Peter pointed out with a snicker. Andy glared at him testily, observing his leering face in distaste, and folded her arms.  
"Well, you're a midget, Peter," she muttered angrily. An expression of hurt fell over his face, and she turned away abruptly, towards James, "but honestly, James. Can't you lay off of 'im?"  
He stared at her for a moment, as if in deep thought, and finally took a glance at Sirius to confirm his decision. Standing there for a brief second, he finally turned towards Andy, and with a decided nod of the head, made his final answer:

"...No."

Andy glared at him angrily, opening her mouth, but shutting it briefly, before shaking her head, and walked off.  
"Asshole."  
He snorted after her, and laughed, "See you at Quidditch practice t'morrow morning!"  
Remus sighed, peeking his head over his book with a puzzled expression on his face, "Honestly, you two.."  
"Don't start that shit, Moony. She started it," Sirius groaned, slumping to his side and staring at the words printed on the paper curiously, "What the ruddy hell is that crap?"  
"History of Centaurs."  
James frowned, and glanced back at Andy as she slumped down beside Dorcas Meadowes, but said nothing.  
"Say, Moony. When does the next O.W.L test start?"  
"About half of an hour, James."

* * *

"Y'know, Potter's a git, Andy. Don't let it bother you," Dorcas muttered boredly, fidgeting with her fingernails with a faint sigh.  
It was awkward, Andy noted, that she, of all people, had started an argument. She liked the four, quite honestly. But perhaps it was just too much. Severus was a person.  
A person, whom she supposed, didn't get around so much. Perhaps with Lily, a good friend of his, but she noted, with a blazing anger, that the 'word', the word of all words, was forbidden, and easily gained a seat for you at the Slytherin table. You might as well be vermin.  
_But there was no need to pick on Severus,_ she assured herself.  
Hell, she didn't even _know_ Severus, much less talked to him. But somehow, she always found a pang of guilt and pity in for one fallen victim to James Potter. She had, in fact, never been taken victim upon the boy, but she knew better as to make herself weak.  
She shook her head, "But it looked so bad," she sighed, "They should really leave poor Snapple alone."  
Rita shrugged, doodling on a spare scrap of parchment boredly, as if trying to ignore Andy's woes - which weren't really her's in the first place. Nevertheless, she lifted her eyes up at her friend.  
"Just leave it alone, Andy. It's time to get back to our O.W.L testing, anyways."  
With that, the three stood, and wandered off back inside, knowing not of the activities ahead.

* * *

**Author's note**;  
Well, folks. So ends chapter one.  
Hope you liked it, but there's more to come.  
That'll actually have to do with the plot! ;D 


End file.
